Gory Hole
by WereGarurumonX
Summary: Unable to take his lust for Chris Redfield anymore, Piers Nivans visits a local restroom to work out his frustration. Piers/Chris MATURE CONTENT WARNING.


_**Gory Hole**_

_Disclaimer: 'Resident Evil' and all related characters are property of Capcom._

_Warning: Piers/Chris explicit. If you do not approve of such matter, do not read-and do not bitch._

_Summary: Unable to take his lust for Chris Redfield anymore, Piers Nivans visits a local restroom to work out his frustration._

_Authors Note: A kinky Porn-Without-Plot. And yes, the title is a pun, aren't I clever? While the character Piers pleasures in the bathroom is named 'Anonymous', it doesn't take a genius to work out who he really is. ;) (And if you need a hint... psst...it's Chris!)_

* * *

The heat of the day was too much for Piers. Captain Redfield hadn't allowed them to stop since morning and insisted all the men under his command ear full uniform even in the beating African sun while they worked on their mission to rebuild the damage left in the wake of the Uroboros virus outbreak.

Piers was sweating more than usual as he bent to pick up another dead body, and dragging the poor lost soul by his feet over and with the help of another soldier, lifted the lifeless body in to the back of a truck along with the rest. Piles of bodies stacked on top of each other in the back of a pickup. Death-Wagon, they called it.

If the skin-melting heat wasn't bad enough: the stench of rotting bodies and actual flesh melting in the heat was even worse: An unbearable job worthy of passing out to. But since they were partly responsible for whatever happened, they would dispose of the bodies properly to be sure to quell the risk of another outbreak of the demonic plague.

What an awful job.

But Chris Redfield was passionate, and sick to the stomach of fighting—of killing poor people who were not responsible for their actions. He hated it. And this cleanup operation was his way of paying back for the hell that happened. Giving a little piece of lost humanity back.

It was amazing really. But no matter how much the men admired him, Piers held secret deeper feelings for the man whose command had taught him so much. So, whenever the men grumbled of Chris and his 'hardass' attitude, Piers would silence them, which in turn. Granted him an approving nod from his idolized captain. Piers would have butterflies in his stomach if he weren't busy trying not to throw up.

The rest of the men were less fortunate in that respect. Many—more than half of the squad in fact, had to be sent to the medical tent for examination for their frequent vomiting. Some of them were faking, Chris knew, but he had no business feeling sorry for men who were not able to hack it.

Things were only getting hotter for Piers when the bodies were finally carted away to be disposed of by the families. Chris had requested Piers' help privately to fix a few broken doors since the rest were granted the break they finally begged for. Quite a few of the sick soldiers mysteriously got better at this news. Piers was not happy however, because he foolishly leapt at the opportunity to continue working after sundown. He ached from head to toe and was desperate to get away and sit down and have a drink but he wanted so damn bad to make Chris proud of him.

They were alone in the darkened garage. Chris was sawing wood, and Piers piled it up, ready for the morning. Chris was starting to notice the younger man's huffing and considerable sweaty smell. He wasn't fresh either, but looking at how tired poor Piers was, Chris felt something tug at his heartstrings, like a cute puppy. Or a cute boy he was just beginning to notice.

"Piers, you okay?" He stopped, watching how his toned hot little body swayed to turn, his hazy eyes focusing on anything but him.

"Yes, sir."

"Are you lying to me Piers?" By now, Chris was outright smirking as he dropped the saw back on the table to lean on one elbow on it. He now realized, looking at Piers how tired he was himself.

"…Yes, sir." He laughed a relieved sigh before backing himself against a wall, closing his eyes and finally wiping the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his damp jacket shirt which clung to him uncomfortably. He was grateful for Chris Redfield to finally be acting like a human and not like the super human machine he had been acting over the last few days.

"Good. So am I." Their eyes met briefly before exchanged smiles. "I'm going for a piss… go get some sleep Piers."

"Right… goodnight captain." He wanted him so bad. "Hey, piers… we're off-hours. It's Chris."

They both laughed at that as Chris left Piers alone in the garage, hot and bothered, and palming the front of his combat pants.

"Yeah, night Chris." In a choked whisper he knew he was out of earshot, bit it still felt good to be able to call him Chris. None of the others were aloud to do so. It made Piers feel special, like he was valued more. Teacher's Pet.

This was no good.

Piers sighed; he couldn't jack off in a dark garage. No matter how badly he wanted to. So he went to the bathroom.

The bathroom was a poor excuse for a toilet, a dilapidated building with no plumbing, no lights, no doors, no windows and flies seemed to live in abundance in the last stall. It was an old building made out of stone similar to an outhouse with four doorless stalls. Peeling plaster and crumbling walls showed it's age. Since there was no plumbing, the only useable object was the urinal trough, which allowed the water to collect to be emptied. They had to travel nearly a mile to the town where the local bar had toilets was the only place that they could fully relieve their bowels in peace. This obviously added to the men's discomfort level.

The men occasionally came to the restroom to relieve themselves during the day, preferring the stench of stale piss in darkness to the stench of rotting bodies in the sun. They drank a lot, but they sweated more than they put in so the bathroom was relatively unused. Piers however was desperate for a different reason.

Piers sighed as the smell stung his nostrils, strangely he was thankful he could no longer smell death, and the coolness of the constant shade in the crumbling outhouse was a welcome feeling, despite the sheer disgustingness of the place than no person in a urbane country would go near. He knew these places could be dangerous, so he looked behind both shoulders before going in, had a quick look around—the stalls were empty, so he took the middle one.

Unzipping himself was such a relief he actually sighed when his semi hard cock flopped out against his hand. He was so horny he quickly started stroking himself to full hardness and pumping himself as fast as he could—so fast he had trouble breathing with the exertion his hand was causing.

It felt so good he was nearly crying as he squinted, trying to make out the thousands of filthy messages and dirty drawings, which covered every inch of the wall by other obsessively horny men. This was what he needed, to work his hard flesh in his hand until he spilled all over the walls like a hopeless teenager.

"Yes… oh yeah." He began panting illicit words of sexual fantasy, imagining all the things Chris could privately do to him in the stall; shoving him against the wall and pulling down his pants. Taking him rough and hard like the slut he wanted to be treated like by Chris. "Yeah, fuck my twink ass." He muttered, his face pressed against the filthy wall, imagining the very act of being taken roughly against the wall.

Just when he was very nearly reaching the point of no return; saliva sticking between his cheek and the wall, he stopped.

Booted footsteps hit the stone floor of the bathroom—someone had entered.

Piers bit his lip and swore under his breath. The most he could do was remain still, hoping that the stranger would do his business and leave so he could finish himself off in peace. But there was no such luck as the stream of pissing in to the trough stopped, only for the feet to enter the stall next to him—the first one closest to the door.

He didn't dare move. Who was this man? Could he be a murderer? He didn't know these parts weren't exactly safe. There was a deadly stillness. It felt so hard for poor Piers to stand there, forced to wait with his cock in his hand, leaking, so close to coming he could almost taste it.

He jolted. Something was pressing in to his thigh. He looked down at the erect cock poking through a hole in the wall: rubbing up against him. Piers felt mild disgust at the presumptuousness, but obviously there was no point in hiding anymore, they knew he was there. He slowly, cautiously pulled back away from the wall, wiping away the saliva with the back of his hand.

Piers' eyes were transfixed that big, thick, hard meaty cock staring up at him. At first he felt rage, and he was about to lash out and punch through the hole when without even realizing his actions, his fingers brushed over the fleshy shaft. It twitched in anticipation of what was about to happen.

Fuck it Piers thought as he started masturbating the stranger, and letting his cockhead brush over his, creating an arc of precum that linked their cocks together. This was so dirty but he didn't care, he desperately wanted to cum.

He couldn't hold back the moan of pleasure as their erections came together: and neither could his partner. The continued to rub and grind their shafts together, groaning and panting quietly as the secret pleasure was almost too much for them to handle. He had never felt more fulfilled as he did jacking off the anonymous man. It felt so fun and exciting. He begun to work the cock faster in his hand, smirking proudly as he could feel his own orgasm on the edge as he squeezed both of their shafts together and slickly jacked them both together. He was crying in ecstasy as he spilled his cum all over the divider and splattering over the thick throbbing member.

He sighed happily as he came down from his intense climax. It felt so good. It felt so good in fact that he hadn't realized the other guy hadn't reached such heights yet. He felt bad but satisfied.

Piers was down on his knees in seconds, and taking the engorged fleshy organ in his mouth, his lips stretched to an obscene degree to accommodate the thick member, which pulsated and throbbed delightfully under his tongue. He was risking a lot being so inexperienced, but this was just too good of an opportunity to miss.

It still tasted piss and of his own cum, which coated the cock, but the biter taste only made him more eager to taste the strangers' cum spilling over his tongue. He groaned at the thought. He wanted this so bad, he pulled the cock from his mouth, only to rub his face all over it, getting it's scent all over him before diving back down, squeezing firm the base and balls in his hands as he sucked and bobbed like a pro.

It didn't take long, and Piers was granted the perverted pleasure of a grunting howl before the hot slimy juices were flooding in to his mouth like a dream come true. He whimpered with delight as he greedily gulped down the seed.

All too soon it was over.

But Piers was left with his head spinning as he heard the man on the other side zip up, and followed the sounds of the feet as they left him lying there on the bathroom floor, exhausted and released.

Piers found it hard to open his eyes the next morning. He awoke on the bathroom floor. It was only thanks to the sound of approaching wheels in the dirt that he managed to come around.

"Oh shit." He looked down, seeing his cock was out, so quickly tucking and zipping himself up he stumbled to his feet and made for the exit, only to bump in to captain Chris Redfield.

"Oh… Piers. Sorry." Chris looked flustered, like he had ran from the truck.

"No problem Captain." For a while they just stood there, looking at their feet. "Is it time to go to work already?" He didn't want to but hey, he had to.

"Er no…" Chris scratched the back of his head and backed up, allowing Piers space to walk out in to the blistering sun with him. It beat down on them like never before as Chris moved to the truck, gesturing for him to get in. The puzzled look on Piers' face required further explanation. "They called us in. We are needed for a mission in Europe."

"Oh…" Piers wasn't sure if he was happy or not. But he would be willing to take anything as long as it meant he'd get out of this damn sun. "But who will take care of this place?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned as he got in the truck next to Chris.

"It's in the government's hands now." He simply said as he started the engine and turned the truck back around.

"How did you know where I'd be?" He asked, finally looking over to meet his eyes before they were quickly averted back to the road.

"I have my secrets Piers, best just not to ask." He smiled.

Piers nodded, but not quite getting it.

Chris' tone… It was something Piers couldn't quite put his finger on— but he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, he just didn't know it.


End file.
